


hey, hey, hey, lover

by onegoodhonestkiss



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Autistic Martin Blackwood, Disabled Martin Blackwood, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Love Confessions, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, pressure stim, soft content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26086534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onegoodhonestkiss/pseuds/onegoodhonestkiss
Summary: " you don't have to be a star.hey, hey, hey, lover,i love you just the way you are. "or, martin gets a very good pressure stim :)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	hey, hey, hey, lover

**Author's Note:**

> i didnt proofread but i hope this is okay <\3 very sappy content right here

martin's got a weird relationship with being touched. not... weird for someone like him, persay- more just. unusual for people who aren't. also disabled. it's always been an uncomfortable topic for people around him- he has a distinct memory of a younger him clutching his mom's skirts as she spoke flatly to her friends of how she didn't know how she'd raised such an odd child. "a bit quirky", she'd call him on a good day. martin'd prefer not to say what she'd call him on a bad day.

since then, it's always been,, a source of shame for him, at the very least. how he can get overstimulated at just being held too lightly, or when a blanket's too soft- how _inconvenient_ he is. crying at too much or too little- always so _fussy_. tim doesn't seem to mind, though.

tim thinks he's brilliant, actually. that isn't martin being. desperate and hopeful as usual, tim _tells_ him that- constantly, actually. it's such a juxtaposition to hear him crack jokes and ruthlessly tease sasha and jon, and then have him turn around and handle martin with this care and earnest affection that makes him well up with tears. it's hard to know how to react to something like this, it's just. so incredible- martin's at a loss, whenever tim compliments or comforts him. it's like he's missed a step going downstairs, and all the wind's been knocked out of him- but in a good way? it's an. odd feeling, but christ, martin wouldn't give it up for anything.

he jokes around with martin, duh. tim's got an absolutely _filthy_ mind, and he loves flustering martin with it, awkward as he is. but he won't make fun of martin, not ever- it's overwhelming, really, how _good_ he makes martin feel. he's so attentive- he just. takes such an active interest into what makes him happy, and those things _matter_ to him. martin's always been the type to downplay his feelings- maybe because of his mom, maybe because of something else entirely; but tim _notices._ he reads martin as easily as he would a statement- which is frustrating when martin's trying to hide something, but so _comforting_ to know he's being understood so fluently. 

and tim's talent at reading martin is _exactly_ why he's in this situation now.

it started with martin mentioning he liked to pile blankets on himself for the weight. it was an offhand comment- more a moan about his intolerance for heat than anything else, and a grumble about the prices of weighted blankets. tim's eyes lit up, oddly enough. they shone with an earnest passion whenever he had an idea, intent clear in his gaze. martin had brushed it off, reading it as his overtly overexcitable boyfriend becoming hyped up about him having the courage to mention something he likes as usual- clearly, though, it was more than that.

the questions began, after that- chirpy, with a carefully measured casualness running under it. asking him what exactly he meant by liking _pressure_ and what a weighted blanket even _is,_ (searching up what they were got a shocked wolf-whistle from tim, settling back down with a sigh. "guess you're not gonna let me buy it for you, huh?" he pouted, voice dripping with drama.), a myriad of questions pointed with just enough subtlety for martin not to reach the conclusion of what tim's considering. either that, or martin's just oblivious as all hell. 

planning has always been one of tim's strong points. the actual 'asking-your-boyfriend-on-a-date' part? not so much. he's surprisingly dorky for someone with such a reputation, which tim himself attributes to being 'completely and utterly head over heels'. he's not as useless as martin, thank god, but there's still a hot flush to his cheeks as he proposes a movie night- you'd think he was asking for _sex,_ with the way he tilts his head with a easy smirk and a little too much nervousness in his eyes, but martin knows tim well enough to know how much value he places on the little things and how much he wants to make martin happy. wonderful, that's what he is. his face brightens immensely when martin agrees excitedly, and he can feel tim's smile against his lips when he kisses him hard in response, with a languid intensity that makes martin's chest bubble with soft, lovesick giggles. absolutely wonderful.

tim's sprawled across martin's stomach, drumming his fingers lightly against his chest absent-mindedly. he's warm- christ if that's an understatement. tim's typically freezing cold- he's never seen without about a thousand layers, and he's constantly seeking out the heat of martin's knitted jumpers _(hand_ knitted, mind- martin's very proud of his knitting skills, as... lame of an interest as it may be, he's _good_ at it), or just a hug from him in general. but right now? he's like a little space heater, whirring away on martin's chest under the drapes of his mass of blankets. tim was worried about crushing martin, lying on him like this- tim isn't the smallest guy, though martin's certainly bigger- but christ, he didn't have anything to be concerned about. martin's _euphoric,_ the anchor of tim's weight grounding and filling him with a contented bliss. he's completely devoid of his usual tensed-up, bumbling nervousness, his whole body relaxing and relishing the soft, homely safety he feels. 

he looks beautiful, martin isn't afraid to admit- he wouldn't say it for fear of startling tim from his half-asleep tranquility, but he's _gorgeous._ his hair's mussed and knotty, his face is half-obscured by the way he's curled up to look at the tv, his chocolate eyeliner smudging and faded- he's perfect. and martin loves him. not that... he's told tim that. martin's got a bit of a thing about commitment. _several_ of his past relationships have had him fuck it up by asking for too much at once, expecting long-term investment when things were new and fragile. that's what what they have right now is. it's fragile and new, like a baby bird hatching from it's egg, and he _desperately_ doesn't want to ruin it. christ- poet much, martin?

tim's said he loves him- during. sex, though. he hasn't said it outside of that, and they haven't brought it up. hell, martin's not gonna be the one to mention it. how do you say 'hey, do you mean it when you say you love me?' without seeming odd? what's most likely is that tim'll let him down gently. tim's lovely, he wouldn't be cruel- 'of course i do!! you're my best friend!!'- and that'd be the end of that. martin doesn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, persay- what's blossoming is wonderful, and martin doesn't want to... stamp on a sprouting flower, if you get the metaphor. in tim's shorthand, he's. afraid he's gonna fuck up what he has because he wants more.

it's not like... martin would be upset if tim _wasn't_. it'd be totally okay- martin's just the type to fall with ease. it's just _embarrassing-_ he's always too much, and he doesn't want to be that for tim, yknow? all he knows is that he loves him, and he wants to do whatever makes him happy. 

"anyone up there, marto?" martin jumps at the sudden flick to his forehead, and he looks up into the eyes of the smirking face he has so perfectly mapped out in his mind. god, tim's beautiful. from his artfully tousled hair to the way his nose crinkles up, he's beyond lovely- martin could write a thousand poems and he wouldn't be able to pin down exactly how ethereal tim stoker is. there's no mocking in his smirk, his eyes bright with care, and martin melts, muttering an apology for getting lost in thought.

"all good!! whatcha thinking about?" tim asks, curling back up against him like a sweet little golden retriever. he rests his head on martin's shoulder, intimate and soft with his breath warm on martin's collarbone and his hands on martin's waist. 

"you, duh." martin murmurs casually, playing with tim's hair. tim has the most _gorgeous_ hair, jesus- it's so soft and shiny, and all the work tim puts into making it as conditioned and textured as possible certainly has an impact- running his hands through it is a fucking religious experience. "you're lovely- thank you for this, by the way." 

tim snorts at that, the vibration buzzing in martin's chest, and it takes a second for him to realise he's laughing at him. at martin's surprised protests, he boops him on the nose quickly. "marto, you're thanking your boyfriend for cuddling with you. you're really fueling my ego here, love- might start charging you per kiss, since i'm just that excellent." he grins, his face open and warm with no malice to be seen, and martin cant resist kissing him softly. 

"didn't take you for a prostitute, bub-" he says, matching tim's sarcasm when he resurfaces for air. god, being with tim is just so _easy-_ he doesn't have to triple check before he says each word, afraid he'll piss him off or irritate him somehow. he feels safe, and free to make jokes and be himself. 

"mm, i definitely have the looks for it-"

"and the confidence!" 

" _cheek!"_ tim elbows martin in the stomach, and giggles like a little kid at martin's squeal. god, tim's adorable- martin's compelled to surge forward and kiss him lightly. tim's response is immediate, going floppy and kissing him back, hard. "you're lucky i love you so much- otherwise i'd fight you for that." martin giggles in response, laughing into the kiss- wait.

wait, what?

"you- huh. oh! iiiiiii. love you too!!" martin says quickly, sounding absolutely lost. they're not having sex, it's not something said in the heat of the moment- tim's- he loves martin. holy shit. 

"um, 'm glad?" tim answers, blinking at him as he lifts his head away from his to look at him properly. "you don't have to say it back, marto." there's hurt in his face, though- martin can see it, in the way he bites his lip and looks up with doe eyes. fuck, martin's fucked this up.

"no!!! no, no- it's not- i do want- it's like. i didn't- you love me???" martin blurts out, face turning an embarrassing shade of crimson. he's so bad at this, fuuucking hell.

"yes?" there's genuine bafflement in tim's expression, and he drums his fingers on martin's chest as he thinks. "i've said it before- did you not notice?" he frowns, nose scrunching up cutely. 

"i didn't- realise? i did notice i just thought- it was. you getting all. cute. after??" he's stammering like an idiot- practically spluttering by now, embarrassing himself immensely. gosh, he makes everything so _awkward,_ jeez. 

tim stares at him for a beat, nose still wrinkled up, until the penny drops. he looks absolutely astonished, but his eyes are still kind and loving, so martin isn't. too worried? of course he's still a little worried, when isnt he worried!!! there's always a lot to worry about, and he's right to- " _martin._ " 

martin nearly flinches, but tim's eyes are smiling, and he feels safe. "martin, love- marto- i'm in love with you? have been for months- sasha's spent _far_ too long having to wingman for my office rom-com bullshit, and me acting all lovey-dovey whenever you hand me a cup of tea- i love you?"

there's a deep red flush creeping up tim's cheeks as he talks, his expression honest and more than a little embarrassed. martin's one of the only people who gets to see tim like this, completely real and genuine, charming demeanor shed. he's so lovely; martin couldn't love him more if he tried. 

"i love you too," martin starts, voice shaking a little but strong with confidence that what he's saying is true. "you're so lovely- so perfect, i love you- i've loved you for a really long time, and these past few months have been !! so, so good- i adore being with you, you make me so happy? uh. yeah!!! yep that's- yeah!! 've been considering telling you for a while," he laughs a little bit, abashed. "sorry, 'm not the best with words-!!" 

he goes crimson from head to toe- it's _hard_ to make tim blush, and martin's pretty chuffed with himself for achieving it, dimpling happily as said man looks at him. "i love you so much," tim enthuses, red-cheeked and grinning. he dips down to pepper kisses onto martin's face- his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and smiles against his skin when he giggles at the feeling. "you wonderful dork; my dork. my martin." he murmurs softly into his hair, and martin almost chokes at those words, melting like an idiot. 

"your martin." he replies softly with droopy eyes, curling up to hug him better. "i love you so much, tim." 

**Author's Note:**

> the poetic stuff is intentionally shit martin i love you but you're a bad poet and we all know it


End file.
